


One More Night

by spookyleo



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt Tony, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, One More Night by Maroon 5, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Vague angst, howard stark is awful, its a Bad Song but fuck that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 16:10:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13955208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyleo/pseuds/spookyleo
Summary: Tony isn't sure what he wants anymore.Or, Tony Needs A Hug In Every Fic and I'm Not Here To Change That.Or, Fuck You, Howard Stark.





	One More Night

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the wonderful @Exoticghosts for beta ing (does that make sense?)!  
> Hope everyone enjoys as always!!

One more night. One more _fucking_ night.

Tony stared himself down in the mirror, brown eyes fiery, eyebrows drawn in together in a determined frown.

He leaned on the sink, knuckles tight against the rim of the basin. His shirt was open, blue glow of the arc reactor lighting up his chest, illuminating the taut grimace of his expression.

The bathroom door clicked open, and it was Steve, naked save a pair of come stained dark blue underpants that, really, could belong to either of them. He waited at the door for a second as Tony swiveled his head to take the sight of the man in, and to nod an acknowledgment across the room.

“Hey,” Steve’s voice was low, calming, caring. An olive branch through Tony’s racing thoughts. Tony lowered his gaze. Nodded again.

Steve moved across the room, tried to make eye contact with Tony in the mirror as his hands reached to touch the opened shirt, the soft tanned skin that lay beneath.

Tony instinctively responded, hands moving to grab Steve’s, neck crooking for Steve’s lips to make contact. He could feel Steve against his ass, ready for another round, and he felt himself twitching at the thought.

_What damage could one more night do, after all?_

Steve’s hands slipped down to Tony’s waist, moving the pair of boxer trunks as he went. Tony’s breathing sped up from his touches.

Their eyes caught in the mirror, though, and suddenly, Steve stopped. Pulled his lips from Tony’s neck, his hands from where they caressed his hips, moved away just so he left no pressure on Tony’s body, but still remained a presence of comfort.

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean, what’s wrong?”

Steve’s eyes were a steely grey, narrowed to a point where his concern was obvious. He huffed out a little breath through his nose, searching Tony’s eyes in their reflection.

“You don’t want this.”

“I do.” Tony wanted it more than anything. To be Steve’s, and for Steve to be his, the way they had belonged to each other for the last two weeks, day in and day out. It was a glorious mess, and it was the best thing to happen to Tony in a long time, and yet the longer it carried on, the more Tony knew he would have to clean up at the end.

“...Just?”

Tony sighed, a weight of tension falling from his shoulders.

“I keep thinking about my dad.”

Steve’s expression changed from concern to an empathetic frown.

“I worry. I feel like this isn’t who he’d want me to be.” Tony got this feeling every time he got close to people romantically, especially when it was other men. Howard Stark had been a classic bigot, and Tony’s coming out as bisexual at age 17 had not been well received. It hadn’t helped that he’d only seen his father another four times before the old man’s untimely death.

“You should have told me sooner. I would never want to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. I’m so sorry, Tony.” Steve’s eyes were clouded with guilt as Tony turned to face him.

“It’s okay, I promise,” Tony tried to clear the guilt from the other man’s eyes, because he knew it truly had no place there.

“I just keep telling myself I’m going to call this off, and I _really_ don’t want it to stop, but I feel like I _should_ so I don’t hurt you,” Tony’s hands quivered as he spoke himself into a frenzy.

“- And at this point I just don’t know what to do.”

“Tony.” Steve held Tony’s shoulders and stared into distressed eyes. Comforting. Grounding.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

And it sounded like he really meant it. Tony gazed into his eyes. Tony wanted to believe it. He really did.

“Let’s get some rest.” Steve took Tony’s hand, maintaining the soft loving glow in his sky blue eyes, and led him out of the bathroom, to their bed, where the two lay down together in silence.

Five minutes later, Tony’s head on Steve’s chest and Steve’s hand grounding on his shoulder, Tony finally spoke.

“I’m scared, because,” he took a breath.

“I think I love you.”


End file.
